The Storm
by SOWritings
Summary: Taking place immediately after Darcy's proposal. Darcy and Elizabeth are faced with a sudden flash flood. (Setting is from the 2005 P&P first proposal scene, "Temple of Apollo," at Stourhead. And a mix of other in book/movie/fanfictioned locations.) Rated M for graphic scenes of flood aftermath, and possible lemons...? Comments, reviews, and favorites are appreciated! Thank you!
1. Chapter 1

"And those are the words of a gentleman?! From the first moment I met you... your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain... for the feeling of others... made me realize that you were the last man in the world... I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.

Though heavy rain pummeled the earth, a high pitched ringing filled Darcy's ears with these words. They hit him so deeply, that his heart for a moment forgot to beat, and his soul felt as though it left him. Struggling with this, he opened his mouth to speak, but he was far too wounded to utter a word. He was not prepared for what had just transpired, and looking into her eyes he could only feel pain. Feeling an urgency to be away he summed up his strength.

"Forgive me, madam, for taking up so much of your time." And with one last look he turned and walked away.

The ringing still persisted in his ears as he walked away. His eyes were fixed on the ground. His head was heavy, and his heart ached. As he reached the steps of the structure, the sudden flash of lightning blinded him. Looking up he discovered the terrain was much altered. Through the now constant downpour, water was building up on the ground, and was nearing the top step. Taking a few steps backward, he watched as the water continued to rise. Following up the hill, to the shortest path to Rosings, he found that a debris were being swept over the hill, and quickly headed toward them. With water now ankle height, he looked over his shoulder to Elizabeth. She was holding onto a column, as the water quickly swept up around her. She was barely able to keep standing as the water soaked her clothes, and caused her to sway.

Opening his mouth to get her attention, he was hit from behind the knee by a tree limb, and he fell forward. Quickly recovering, he looked her direction again. The limb was headed her way. "Miss Elizabeth lookout!"

Her head spun around at this, but she did not react in time. It collided directly into her waist, and tangled with her coat.

Quickly he waded through the water, and caught her hand as it slipped from the column. "I have you!"

"Pleheease!" She wheezed.

Looking to her neck he could see that her coat was held tight at her neck, from the limb being pulled by the current. Using his leg to anchor himself to the column, he quickly went for the buttons.

With one button free, her coat tore off, leaving her with only the one sleeve. Elizabeth was violently thrashed forward into Darcy's arms. He juggled her in his arms, keeping a firm grasp on her, as well as keeping his other arm around the column. Though they were on the far side of the temple, the water on the other side was quickly rising, the small pond below, was nearly a lake. Canceling out the chaos around them, Darcy could feel Elizabeth frantically trying to take in a full breath. Looking down at her he could see that her face was pale, and her breaths were short. "Are you unwell Elizabeth? Were you injured?"

She angled her head up, and opened her mouth to take in a deep breath. But, was unsuccessful. "I can't take in a full breath?!"

Darcy was troubled by this, was she injured by the limb? Perhaps a small branch on it could have pierced into her. He didn't dare feel for it, seeing as the impropriety, as well as he may lose her with the quickly rising water.

In the midst of her struggle, Darcy kept compensating his grasp on the column as the water rose. They had left the ground level, and were slowly reaching the roof.

Observing this, Darcy was planning his next maneuver in his mind, betwixt keeping an eye on Elizabeth, and holding on for dear life. Finally concluding there was no better option, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Miss Bennett."

She weakly nodded, to this through her still struggled breaths.

"We need to get onto the roof. Are you able to move on your own?"

"Barely she shuddered."

He took in a breath, and weighed his options once again. "I need you to hold tight to me then." Inside he immediately winced in mortification of this statement. He had hoped that she would do so on better circumstances. Now he was asking her to do such a thing knowing how much he offended her.

She too winced, but quickly did as she was told, seeing how dire the situation was.

She grasped her arms around his chest. The dramatic burning warmth of his body highly contrasted with the frigid water that was almost up to their shoulders. Darcy gently released his grasp from around Elizabeth. Finding her grasp tight, he pulled them up to the edge of the roof. With all his strength he pulled them up against the rising current. Twice his grip slipped on the slick stone edge. Feeling the current pick up more, he took in one deep breath and pulled as hard as he could.

They fell hard onto the cold stone carved roof. Darcy took the brunt of it, with his shoulder landing hard right into a raised point. Taking in deep staggered breaths, while the rain pounded down upon him, he mustered up the strength to move. Lifting his head he looked down at the still attached Elizabeth. He reached around his neck, and urged her to release her grasp.

"Are you alright Miss Bennett?"

Slowly, she pulled herself up. Her body bobbed from sided to side, as she tried to sit on her own. Color had mostly drained from her face, and though rain poured down her face, tears also accompanied it.

"Good god Madam, what ails you?!" He quickly sat up, and caught her before she fell backwards.

She seemed to mouth some words, but he could not make them out.

Remembering the impact with the limb, he began to inspect her. her dress was torn from the front, to along her side, but otherwise he found no impact or cuts.

"I can't Breeethe... so Tiiight." She wheezed, as she weaved about in his grasp.

Tight? He thought for a moment, then immediately knew what it was. Looking around to her lower back, a long frayed white cord was dangling from a fresh cut in her gown. Tugging at it she seized, and buckled forward. Obviously this wasn't the best method. Still supporting her with one arm, he carefully inspected the tear at the back of her gown. He could see through the hole the back of her corset. One cord was completely severed, whereas the one in his hand was stretched, and frayed at the end.

"Forgive me Madam." Darcy said in a low tone, as he began to pull at the cords from the top. She swayed at this, and shuddered from her corset becoming even tighter than before. He paused for a moment with this. The cords were soaked, and were not going to budge. Looking closer, he could see off to the side what looked to be a recent stitch repair along the boning. "Apologies ahead of time for this Madam." From the top, he lifted the corset as much as he could away from her skin, then with one violent movement, ripped the fabric clean through.

Instantly Elizabeth gasped a full breath and fell forward, as Darcy fell backward and nearly slipped off the edge of the roof.

"Are you well Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth slowly was catching her bearings on all fours, with her head down, taking in labored full breaths through her mouth, seeing as her nose was useless with the rain and tears pouring down her face. "Yes... Much improved Sir. I..." She stopped short seeing as she was suddenly aware of the water pooling up to her wrists. She looked up to Darcy, who was also presently preoccupied with this new development. They both looked to the top of the monument. All that was left was the top of the steep dome, which looked to be unsuitable for climbing. "Darcy what do we do?" She pleaded as she attempted to stand.

Walking over to aide her, he took her hand without restraint, as he looked around for an escape. There were tall trees nearby, but not without a swim. Which surely was not the best mode, seeing larger and more dangerous debris than before float by at a high frequency. They were miles from Rosings, and to his knowledge this was the highest point in the region. "I believe we will just have to bear down here."

Elizabeth whimpered a little at this. Her body ached from the cold, and her back hurt from the impact of the limb.

After he guided her up to the precipice, they stood there in silence, teeth chattering from the cold, clothing soaked through, and winded from the ordeal. They were in awe of the chaos before them. Looking down, Darcy remembered he was still holding her hand. Quickly he released it. "Forgive me."

Elizabeth, whom was still preoccupied with the scene before her gave him a confused look.

"My actions, Madam. I must apologize. I meant only to help. There are no other intentions beyond that. You need not worry."

She blinked hard at this, keenly remembering their recent argument. Gripping at her side, where she held her torn corset in place, she looked down at her soaked boots. "There is no need to apologize. I am more worried for our present situation sir."

This eased him very little, seeing as she quickly changed the subject.

For the last few hours of daylight they stood, almost knee deep in water at times, clutching onto the edge of the dome. Eventually at dusk the water lowered where they could scrunch down and sit. The rain eased up, there was a constant trickle, with only a heavy downpour every other hour. The windows to the top of the dome were frustratingly too small for them to squeeze through, so Darcy used his heavy coat to shield them from the rain. Though this was a comfort, it left them no choice but to be in close proximity to one another. So for most of this time they remained silent.

When night was fully upon them a frigid breeze came in. They re-positioned as well as they could, moving to the least windy side, but there was no escaping the cold. Their clothes were soaked, and the rain still persisted. Elizabeth's body had a constant vibration due to the cold. Darcy, not too better off himself, but could cope with the cold, seeing as he had less wet layers on than her. Thinking back to past books he had read, he knew that in a circumstance like this they should use each other for warmth. But he figured she would sooner jump off the roof then come any closer. But he was quickly contradicted, as she slowly began to inch toward him.

"I know it is improper sir. But I am so cold that I am freighted that if I fall asleep, I will never wake up."

Reaching into his vest pocket, he pulled out a gold ring with a deep blue sapphire set in the middle, surrounded by diamonds. "In no way are you obliged to hold to its actual purpose. But if we are discovered, it may look better if you are wearing this."

Elizabeth could not help but be in awe of the ring presented to her, and had a hard time containing it from him. Looking him in the eyes with this offer, she knew he was right. So she simply nodded and presented her left hand. He was surprised by her willingness. But all he could feel as he slid the ring on her finger was an extreme hollowness. This was not what he pictured in his mind when he placed his mother's ring in his pocket that morning.

Hours later the storm let up a little. They had sat in silence under his coat. The water level went down a ways, so they could finally sit comfortably. But little comfort came from the hard uneven surface below them, and the brisk cold wind that cut through his coat. The steam of his breath billowed around his face, as he brought his hands up to his mouth to warm them. Looking to his right he caught a glimpse of Elizabeth's face. It was far more pale than before, and she was shaking all over. Darcy pulled his coat down, and placed it over her shoulders. She jumped at this, and fell forward.

"Forgive me, I was only trying to-." Before he could finish, he noticed she was not moving. "Miss Elizabeth?" He got to his knees and knelt down to check on her.

She was shaking all over, her hands were clenched in like fists, and her lips were turning blue.

"Elizabeth!" Darcy exclaimed as he reached down and pulled her up to sit.

Her body was stiff, and her eyes were half open. Supporting her in his arms he looked her over. "Miss Bennett, are you well?"

"Jane? Why is it so cold?"

Darcy became worried at this. He had heard of cases of people being stranded out in the cold, and going mad.

"Miss Bennett…I-."

Suddenly she lunged forward, and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.

He was very still with this, and did not move a muscle till he felt her tremors ease. Exhaustion hit him hard with this, and so he re-positioned them, leaned up against the window, and covered them both with his coat. Though her grasp was tight, his muscles eased from her warmth. Taking in a deep breath, he wrapped his arms around her, and eventually fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Fear and dread filled her dreams that night. She was running along the Rosing's path to the temple, as Darcy called out accusations of her family's impropriety. Past scenes of their interactions flashed before her with far more clarity. But, these were all overshadowed by colossal tree falling toward her, as she tried with all her might to run away. For the last fleeting second before she was smashed by the tree, she could see Jane, and reached out and wrapped her arms around Jane to protect her from the impact.

Elizabeth jolted awake from the impact, and took in a stifled deep breath through the thick musk scent of her mattress. Gaining clarity of her present position, due to the seething pain in her back, she realized she was not laying down. Feeling warmth on her bare hand, the kind of warmth she knew from sharing a bed with her sister, she pursed her lips and squinted her eyes, praying that it was only Jane, and that she was back at home. But she was a sensible girl, and had no idea why she thought Jane was there. Taking in a breath, she summed up the strength to open her eyes and look up. There she found herself nearly face to face with Mr. Darcy. Her breath left her in shock, which probably was for the best, seeing she may have roused him if she uttered a sound. Slowly she tried to free her arms from around him. But, his arms lay heavy on her delicate limbs, and did not budge. On further analysis of her other options, she became keenly aware that the cold stone roof was not beneath her. Again her breath left her, now from the absolute mortification that not only was she in the embrace of Mr. Darcy, but she was sitting on his lap too! In her head a loud ringing sounded, and she uttered a low whimper. She scoffed at her mother's "ailing nerves" her entire life, but now she gave them some merit.

She bit at her lower lip, and looked up a Darcy. Every fiber of her being made her want to be anywhere but here, and she knew not why she focused on him. Perhaps he would feel her gaze and wake. She knew from past experience, when she had done the same to Jane it worked. But her gaze of intent shifted, and turned into one of interest. This Darcy before her was not the one she had seen looming along the sides of the dance floor, nor was it the man who accused her family of heinous social impropriety. No, his expression was soft, calm, and she could even see evidence of smile lines. Did Mr. Darcy smile? But this inquiry was stopped short with Darcy's thick lashed eyes twitch and open, and make direct contact with her own.

For a moment they were silent. Elizabeth was compounding her utter horror of their position in her mind, and Darcy was making attempts on distinguishing her being in his arms as a dream or not. Shifting her weight Elizabeth found herself on a uneven hard point, and cocked her head in wonder. Darcy's eyes grew wide, in affirmation this was not a dream, and that he needed to get space immediately.

Without permission, he gently lifted her up off to the side, and pulled himself up to stand, with his back to her. She thought this odd, but when she brought her arms down, she felt her damp sleeve touch the exposed skin of her side. Lifting her arm in horror, she found her corset had dropped, and that her chemise was only held on by the right strap. Standing to organize her layers, she attempted to adjust her chemise. But with one little tug the strap gave way, and fell to her feet, taking the corset with it. She let out a low squeak of embarrassment with this, to which Darcy looked over his shoulder in wonder. Seeing her half squatting over her undergarments, his eyes went wide in shock, and he immediately covered his eyes with his hands and stepped off to the other side of the roof.

Elizabeth brought her hands up to her brow and looked up to the sky. Was she set on the path of one mortifying circumstance after another? She cursed under her breath, as she collected her undergarments and balled them up. For a moment she wondered if she should keep them, perhaps to build a fire? Looking off around the side she could see Darcy standing very still. His eyes were fixed on something. Balling her garments up, she walked around to see what he was so interested in.

Walking up to his side, she spotted a cart that had crashed into the side of the roof. Amidst the rubble there was a man mangled from bits of cart and debris. The man's head bobbed up and down with the current, as pieces of the cart slowly separated, and continued on their path down the hill.

"Is he dead?" Elizabeth questioned as she stepped back in horror.

Darcy looked to her with concern. This was definitely something a lady should not see. More focused on her face, he did not realize she was dangerously close to the edge, till he heard the distinct slip of her leather sole. He lunged forward, and grabbed her arm as she was about to fall, and pulled her toward him. Her body swayed, and for a moment she felt as though she would faint. She gripped at his vest, and remained still for a moment.

"I am sorry you saw that Miss Elizabeth. I should have warned you." Darcy uttered in a low voice. He too was still recovering from the shocking sight himself.

Before she knew it, Elizabeth began to cry. This was all too much for her. "No… Darcy. It's just… I-." She could not finish due to her bursting into tears.

Darcy, still holding her in his arms, remained still as she leaned into him, and buried her face in her hands. Awkwardly he held his shoulders up, not letting his hands go past her upper back. He felt her body shudder, as she struggled to breath as she wept. Joining her tears that fell on his boots, a light rain started up, which made her cry even more.

Eventually he was able to coax her to take refuge back on the opposite side of the roof. The water rose again, but still allowed them to sit. Elizabeth leaned against the stone carved window, and looked down into the inner temple. Water crashed up against the walls, and out through the arched passage. What little bit of sunlight that came through the most recent lull in the storm, warmed her neck. Gripping the bottom of the domes edge, the sun danced through the gems of Darcy's ring. Looking it over she did not know how to feel about it.

Off to the side Darcy was draping his damp coat out to dry. It had been nearly two hours of rain. But at least the water did not rise. Looking over to Elizabeth he found her attention fixed on his mother's ring. He took in a breath of disappointment with this scene. He wanted none of this, and with every passing hour of them not uttering a word to one another his heart strained. He had felt nothing but regret, and embarrassment for what he had said to her yesterday. During the many moments of silence, as they sat close under his coat, his mind was consumed with analyzing his transgressions. Re-assuming his post opposite to her, he sat down, and leaned against the wall.

Though his mind was filled with regret, one thing prevented him from speaking it. It was her account of Wickham. His eyes squinted in disdain at the thought of Wickham. This very look unbeknownst to him, Elizabeth caught, and interpreted as something else.

"Are you well Mr. Darcy?"

"Miss Elizabeth. May I share with you my account of Mr. Wickham." He began without thinking.

Her brow raised at this, and she sat forward. "You may."

Elizabeth remained in this position, leaning in even more toward him, completely invested in his every word. So many things that she thought to be true were being negated, and previous affections for the man called George Wickham became stained, and a wicked grin was painted on his visage in her mind. She shed some tears as well, not for Wickham, but for Georgina. She knew all too well as a older sister herself, how traumatic this must have been.

Once he completed his story she wiped her tears with her sleeve. "Forgive me Mr. Darcy."

"There is nothing to forgive. I should have made Mr. Wickham's treachery known. But I just did not-."

"No. You did the right thing. I know I would not want society knowing about something so heinous happening to one of my sisters."

He weakly smiled at this. He marveled at her kindness, and her like minded view on the situation. But quickly this smile fell when remembering what he had said to her the day prior. "Miss Elizabeth. Please allow me to apologize for what I said."

She looked at him perplexed, still fully engrossed in his sister's ordeal.

"It was wrong of me to denigrate you, and your family. It was a cruel, and a truly unforgivable offense."

Elizabeth bit at her lower lip in thought over this, and took in a deep breath. "You were not completely wrong Sir."

He looked at her with question at this.

"My younger sisters, my mother, and even my father are guilty of making a spectacle of themselves. And even myself. Why with what I said to you-." She brought her hands up to her mouth and looked away in shame.

"You need not apologize madam. Your response was a direct result of my egregious behavior. In fact, upon our rescue, you have no need to even think of me beyond this."

She felt a sudden jolt within her heart at this. His statement resonated with nothing but someone who felt absolutely defeated.

"Mr. Darcy… You need not-." She began, but a large bolt of lightning struck the tall tree directly in front of them.

Quickly they scrambled back to the wall of the dome, and scrunched down. Immediately heavy rain began to fall, followed by a hailstorm. Darcy quickly retrieved his coat, and used it to shield them from the barrage of ice. Holding the coat over them with one arm, he used his other to pull her in closer and shield her.

Elizabeth was too scared to care of their proximity. Between the deafening booms of thunder, and the constant cracks of hail, Darcy's embrace was a much needed comfort.


	3. Chapter 3

Waking from a light sleep, Elizabeth really struggled to move. Her body ached from the cold, and her stomach nearly retched from being so hungry. Now, nearly two days since she last had food, her vision became somewhat blurred. Reaching to the ground she scooped up a small handful of hail, and put it in her mouth. Quickly she returned her hand around Darcy's center.

Darcy did not budge at her sudden movement. Looking him over she found he still had his arm propped up, to hold his coat over them, and had his other arm firmly wrapped around her. She didn't mind, in fact for a fleeting second she almost felt she could get used to it. But with all that was said, and their social standings, that was something that could never be. Still tired from the night before, she re-assumed her position, this time wrapping her arms around Darcy's chest. The second her bare hands touched his back she quickly retracted her grasp.

His back was freezing. Peeking around his shoulder from other the coat she discovered his back was completely exposed. Darcy used his coat to protect her, and bore the brunt of the storm. With shock, she disregarded his slumber, and quickly sat up.

"Mr. Darcy. Are you well?"

He did not respond to this.

Pulling the coat from his stiff grasp, she pulled it down to see his condition. As the light cast down on his face she found it much changed. He was pale, and his breaths were short. "Oh, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth sighed, as she brought her hand up to his forehead. It was cold, as well as the rest of him.

Her warm touch roused him, and his body jolted from his joints being almost frozen in place.

"It stopped raining for now sir. But you are cold."

"Are you… well… Miss Elizabeth?" He uttered through a shiver.

She smiled at how completely selfless he was. "Yes, I believe I am unscathed."

A honest smile grew across his face, and he quickly fell back asleep.

Elizabeth brushed off the hail that stuck to his back, then pulled his heavy coat over him. Standing at the edge of the roof, she surveyed the area. The water level was still high, and the ever present foreboding gray sky full of clouds still loomed over them. Turning around she found herself face to face with a man.

"Hello there."

Elizabeth was too shocked to say a word.

"Well look what we got here. Nate, seems like we found something."

Crossing her arms, holding her elbows tight, she tried her best to hide the rip in her gown.

"Yeah. And look at the fat ring that comes with it Aaron." Nate commented, as he tied the row boat off onto the metal grate of the window.

She backed away as far as she could, trying her best to not reveal Darcy's location.

"What are you hiding miss?" Aaron questioned as he came for her.

With absolutely no care for proprietary, Aaron ripped her hands away from her chest, and discovered her damaged gown.

"Well, seems there was an accident. Shame. We could have probably made something off the gown too."

"Psh… Even if it were in one piece it's worth nothing." Nate added as he too reached for her and pinched her sleeve. "Fabric too worn, and it looks to be four seasons too old."

"It is a shame we don't have the space in the boat. We could catch a good price for this one." Aaron mused, as he traced his calloused fingers down her face and to her neck.

Absolutely mortified, Elizabeth turned her nose up at him and made an attempt to slip around them. But this was thwarted by Aaron, who had a keen eye on her. Quickly he grabbed her around from behind, and squeezed her tight. Elizabeth thrashed in his arms, and dug her nails into his thighs.

"Awe, she has some fight in her. I like that."

Nate rolled his eyes at this. "You want me to hold her down?"

"You know me all too well."

"No! No Please, no!" Elizabeth whimpered

"Should I silence her?" Inquired Nate, as he was helping Aaron subdue her, and bring her to the ground.

"No… I like it when they scream." Aaron said, as he planted himself on her legs, as Nate held her arms. "Now, let's just get rid of this nuisance." Aaron, with one quick motion tore at the front of her gown, exposing her bare chest. "It seems this stop was well worth it. Wasn't it Nate?" Looking up he found behind Nate was a tall man with dark hair, lunging for Nate. Before he could utter a word, the man wrapped one arm around Nate's neck, and locked it in place with his other arm.

Quickly Aaron pulled the woman up, and into his arms, holding her arms down, while holding a knife to her neck. "Alright, that's enough. Let him go!"

The man, with one quick movement snapped his friend's neck, and dropped Nate to the ground.

Elizabeth's eyes went wide at this, but continued to squirm in her captor's grasp. Aaron's grasp released a little in shock to his friend lying dead on the ground, and this tall stranger coming his way. Rather abruptly Elizabeth was pulled from Aaron's arms, and Darcy seized the weapon, and buried it into her captor's throat. Aaron's words were muffled through his gargled breaths, as he fell to the ground and expired.

Darcy turned on his heel, and looked Elizabeth's way. He found her in shock, but not harmed. Instantly he fell to his knees, and down onto his palms.

"Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth gasped, as she darted toward him, and eased his landing.

He slumped into her lap, and was struggling to breath through fervent breaths.

"Are you well? Were you hurt sir?"

"Much improved now Elizabeth."

She raised her brow at this. He used her christian name so freely. Though she had done the same too. Seeing his eyes grow heavy. She inched herself back toward the wall, heaving his heavy body with all her might. He put up no fight though this, and his head just bobbed with her tugs.

Eventually she made it to the wall. Sweat dripped down her exposed chest, and onto his forehead in her lap. She thought of getting up to retrieve his coat, to cover them up, but she was too afraid to go alone. The bruises on her arms, and neck stung when she moved. She brought her hand up to her face to wipe away the tears now forming. Her face contorted from her utter shock and despair.

At her lap, Darcy was roused by this, and slowly pulled himself up.

"Sorry to have woke you. I just-." Her words were intangible beyond that.

He took in a deep breath, and wrapped his arms around her in comfort. Holding her gently in his embrace. She wept harder with this, and draped her head over his shoulder.

He rocked her slowly, bringing one hand up to support her head. Eventually she lifted herself up to sit, and looked up at him. He gazed upon her with intense regard, whereas she held him with absolute adoration. She grasped his free hand with this look, and laid light thankful kisses upon the top of his hand. Feeling his other warm hand on her cheek she stopped, and hesitantly looked up. Gently he raised her chin, and leaned in toward her. Then, finding no hesitation on her part, kissed her first on the forehead, then on the nose, and for a brief moment he took in a nervous breath, and kissed her on the lips. Her lips broke from their state of despair, and quickly moved in a shape of gratitude, and complete bliss. Darcy could feel the distinct shift of her lips to her fine smile and pressed further, kissing her deeply. She followed this, and before they knew it their hands were all over one another, pulling at each other's damp garments, and lacing their fingers through each other's hair.

Feeling his primal urgency, Darcy came back to himself, and tried his best to hold back. But Elizabeth's touch was intoxicating. This feeling was like no drug, or sensation he felt before. And he feared the moment it would come to an end. Feeling Elizabeth's hand travel down his thigh, he quickly grasped her hand to stop it. She paused at this, and released his lips. Cheek to cheek, just centimeters apart they gasped for air, yet still held each other tight.

"Miss Elizabeth… If this persists. I will not be able to hold back."

Elizabeth, confused to his meaning at first, quickly became aware of their actions. But made no effort to move from on top him.

Darcy, not seeing her wish to move, pushed his immediate hopeful thought. "If however… Perhaps your feelings toward me are different than before."

"Surely you must know they are." She quickly answered, as she brought her hands up to his face to trace the line of his chin.

Gently he took her hand, and held it. Looking her in the eyes. "Elizabeth, do not feel you are indebted to me. Tell me truth, tell me what you feel."

She looked intently at him with this. His face had nothing but worry on it, and considering all that he had done for her, and what he was willing to do, there was no doubt that he loved her. Realizing this, she smiled. Her past fleeting thought of being with him could come true, and most astonishingly it was her choice. Carefully she formed the words that could express the immense emotions she was feeling. "Fitzwilliam… I cannot see myself anywhere but at your side, and wish to never be separated from you again." She embraced him with this, and quickly locked lips with him once again. Among their impassioned kisses, tears of joy streamed down their faces, and cooled their lustful bodies. As they progressed, their love harmonized, and left them into a full state of euphoria, body and mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Just started the long waited rewrite. Sorry about the wait and confusion. Going to fill in the gap with these upcoming chapters. Hope to get the story done quick so my fellow Fanfic lovers can binge like your supposed to... xoxo SOWritings

Taking in a deep breath Elizabeth turned to her side. The sharp stubble of Fitzwilliam's chin scratched her forehead, and roused her from a blissful slumber. Euphoria from their recent passion was still present. But, recognition of how dire their situation was slowly creeping up on her, with the unbelievable waves of nausea from starvation. She sat up at this, and was immediately greeted by the chill of breeze whip over her naked body.

Fitzwilliam, equally starving, though in another state, crinkled his brow in pain from the now pounding headache he had been developing the past two days. Though for a second the pain was relieved from a light kiss on his brow. Opening his eyes he looked forward and found Elizabeth's fine eyes looking into his own. He exhaled and smiled at this, and he reached up to cup her face, to affirm that she was real, and this wasn't a dream. She closed her eyes and smiled at his touch, and cupped her hand over his. Slowly he pulled himself up, and kissed her on the lips.

Their embrace would have persisted, if it were not for the loud grumble of Fitzwilliam's stomach, and him quickly grasping at it in embarrassment. Elizabeth could not help but smile at this, to think of Mr. Darcy reacting in such a way was too extraordinary. Though it was nothing compared to their present position, completely naked, and using their tattered clothes as blankets.

"If only we were in better circumstances. I would rather continue to enjoy your embrace for the rest of this week." He sighed, as his grumbling stomach subsided.

Her cheeks grew color from this, and she bit at her lower lip to hide her ardent rapture at the notion. Fitzwilliam read through her expression, and exhaled a relieved chuckle at her mutual feelings.

With little care, Fitzwilliam stood, and searched through the strewn about clothing for his trousers. In the midst of this he caught several long lustful glimpses from Elizabeth, as she sat back and watched him dress. Finding himself trapped in her gaze, he unconsciously knelt down, and planted a tender kiss on her welcoming lips. She softly moaned at this, and they nearly were once again lost in each others lust, but her moan was overshadowed by the loud grumble of her stomach. Their lips parted with a smile, and they both broke into laughter at this.

"I believe our unfortunate guests left a boat tied off over here. Perhaps they have some food stowed away." Fitzwilliam said as he stood and walked to the opposite side of the monument.

Elizabeth attempted to collect herself, as she assembled her garments from the pile she lay. With every item she pulled up she found more disappointment. Her gown was torn beyond repair, and all she had left was her stockings, petticoat, and shoes; which she could certainly not wear alone. Discovering Fitzwilliam's vest, she quickly slipped it on, and buttoned it up. Slipping on her damp boots she cautiously walked on the uneven roof toward Fitzwilliam.

She found him rummaging through the boat, digging through obviously looted goods from various houses from the recently ravaged region.

"Anything of note?" She inquired as she came near, and gripped the side of the boat.

"Nothing of use." He replied as he continued to toss silver candlesticks, and various serving utensils off the side into the water. Lifting a pile of soiled clothing from the corner of the boat, he discovered a wooden compartment. Lifting the latch he found a wadded paper mass, with bread crumbs spilling from one side. "We may have some luck." he said pulling out the parcel and unwrapping it. Within was a stale half eaten loaf of bread. Tearing away at what clearly looked to be bite marks, and discarding them, he offered the loaf up to her first. Her starvation overshadowed the unappetizing state of the food, and she ripped away a piece of the bread and put it to mouth. He followed suit, and for a good five minutes they dined in silence, laboriously chewing away at the stale bread, and fighting the stabbing cramps of introducing food to empty stomachs.

Once they had finished the the loaf Fitzwilliam threw the paper aside, and returned to their pile of clothing. He donned his shirt, socks, and boots. Then when coming to to his jacket, and inner coat, he slipped his large jacket on, and gave Elizabeth his inner jacket to wear.

He offered his hand to aid in her boarding of the boat. The water had risen again, which aided in dispersing all the unnecessary items from the boat. They agreed it would be for the best to not be seen as looters themselves. They already had to piece together an explanation for their whereabouts. Not to mention their sudden engagement.

With a quick push Darcy hopped into the boat and took to the oars, leading them off towards Rosings.


	5. Chapter 5

The grounds of Rosings were almost unrecognizable. If it were not for her daily walks, she would not be able to identify their location. Once masses of land covered in tall groves of trees were but small points atop the water, or stripped all together from the earth.

They had been traveling somewhat against the current for almost two hours. Darcy proved to have more endurance than she ever imagined. Not once letting up from rowing. In the distance Rosing parks towers could be seen, and as they grew closer the once grand visage of architecture, was slowly crumbling, and buckling into the waters that nearly reached the second floor.

Elizabeth could not help but gasp as she watched as part of the outer wall buckled, and spilled into the rushing current.

"Good god, I hope all are well inside." Darcy said as he continued to row.

They reached the recently toppled entrance near dusk. At this point they could ride the boat through the center of the building, and into the upper hall leading to the guest bedrooms. Aside from the quakes of the building, and rush of water still flowing through, the house was eerily silent. What little light coming from the setting sun was all they had to explore the upper halls. Elizabeth's soaked leather boots squeaked, and provided little protection from the damaged wooden floor, so she had to take extra care with her steps as to not gain injury from the random lifted and snapped boards.

Darcy walked ahead and grabbed a candle from the wall, and quickly lit the wick from some dying embers in the fireplace. The light was a comfort to them, seeing as the sun was now set, and the rain was returning.

"I cannot understand why we have not found a single person yet." Elizabeth marvelled, as she clasped her hand around his arm.

"Most of the staff attended the service with my aunt. They perhaps were in route back when the storm hit." He replied with a grave expression.

She could not help but shudder at this, for she knew this to be true seeing as Charlotte pointed out the pews designated for Lady Catherine's staff in the far back of the church. "Surely someone must be here, right?" She pressed.

He did not respond to this, for he knew how his aunt enforced rules in her house.

Stepping ahead he urged Elizabeth to stay back, as he opened a hidden service door leading down to the servants quarters. The door creaked, and dug into the sodden wood floor. Peaking in with his candle, Darcy was delighted to find the corridor dry, and the walls without damage. "Come." He called out, offering her his hand.

"What is this?"

"Its part of the original structure. All stone walls to the bottom cellar. We should be safe on this path."

"Where does it lead?"

"The kitchen." He said with urgency.

She smiled at this, but was not going to protest or point out fault. The bread from earlier did very little, and in some ways made things worse. She was currently fighting the urge to retch. They passed many vacant rooms with boots left unpolished, and dresses unpressed. Once they reached the bottom level they discovered that even the strongest part of Rosings could not escape the flood. They had to wade through water that was up to their thighs, but it was worth the platters of food left out ready for brunch three days past. Though it was rather cold, some things had clearly started to turn. But a great deal was still good.

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam quickly went away finding what they could, and slowly lost care for proper dining etiquette with every new item they found to eat.

"Thank goodness my aunt puts such care into the finest ingredients, for I do not think this would have lasted as long as it has."

Elizabeth choked on her food at this with a chuckle, for she had no good opinion of Lady Catherine, till this very moment she was actually benefiting from her outlandish decrees.

In the midst of their bliss of subdued hunger, a loud shudder sounded, and water began to spray through a fresh crack in the wall above the large hooded oven.

"Gather what you can!" Fitzwilliam called out, as he grabbed a discarded apron, and began to pour platters out onto it, and tie it up. Elizabeth followed suit, and grabbed a few jugs filled with water and wine. "We must hurry!" Fitzwilliam urged, as the water rose around them, and nearly pulled her down to the ground.

The water quickly rose as they raced up the narrow stairway. Elizabeth struggled to not trip as her soaked petticoat stuck to her legs, and constricted her movement. Smacking hard into the wall, she eventually decided to quickly ditch the damned thing. So, with a quick pull of the back tie, and the aid of the rising water, she stepped not so gracefully out of the article, tumbling forward. Just barely Darcy caught her, and continued to pull her up the rest of the stairs.

The upper hall was no respite for them. In fact this level too was much altered by the recent surge of water intake. The floor had slit in many places, and they had lost access to their boat.

"This way!" Darcy urged, as he guided her up to the third level.

They were in the upper east wing now, and it looked to have fared better than the levels below.

"In here." He said, as he led her into a room.

Inside things seemed to be very little altered. Aside from some leaks in the ceiling, and a few cracks in the walls, this was by far the most habitable space she had seen thus far. Elizabeth was too focused on reviewing the current condition of the structure, that she missed that they were obviously in Darcy's own room.

Fitzwilliam quickly cleared his desk, and placed his parcel of hors devours in the center. He then braced himself on the edge of his desk, and winced in pain. Looking down at his leg he discovered a large gash in his thigh, that was quickly bleeding out. Quickly he pulled out his chair, and hobbled around to sit. He took in a shuddered breath through his teeth with this. This sound got Elizabeth's attention, and she nearly dropped the jugs she clung tight to at the sight of Fitzwilliam's leg.

"What happened?!" She exclaimed as she rushed over to him.

"Not exactly sure." He weakly said looking over his leg. He lightly traced his finger over the area, and found bits of his trousers sticking in the wound.

"We'll have to clean it up." Elizabeth urged, as she put the jugs aside, and knelt down to his side. Carefully she began to tug at the frayed fabric.

"Ow!.. Wait." He lunged over and grabbed the jug of wine, pulled the cork and took a big swig. He then wheezed and buckled over in response.

"Not a good vintage?" Elizabeth questioned with a quizzical brow, thinking it comicle Mr. Darcy could not handle wine.

He cocked his head and produced the jug right under her nose. Her nose violently turned up, and she squinted her eyes. "What is that!"

"Vodka I believe." He then took another swig to assess his theory. His reaction was far less violent than before, but still could not help from scrunching his brow. "This will help a great deal with this though," he said through partially gritted teeth pouring a little over his wound.

Elizabeth watched in wonder as bubbles bounced throughout his wound. Quickly she tugged at the few remaining tufts of fabric, and cleaned the wound. Scanning over the room she quickly darted to the back wash room, and returned with some clean wash rags.

Once she was done he stood rather suddenly, and with extreme desperation, hobbled over to the large canopy bed. Falling rather ungracefully on his back, near the edge of the bed he chuckled then sighed in a very uncharacteristically Mr. Darcy manner.

"Are you well Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth questioned not recognizing this man before her.

"Quite well. Even better if you join me."

Her brow jumped at this, but getting a light waft from the jug he left behind she quickly realized what was going on. Feeling a wave of exhaustion hit her, she quickly recorked the jug, and brought over the one that had water with her. Walking around the other side she slipped off her boots and crawled over to his side. He did the same, though with the pain in his leg, and his obvious intoxication, his maneuver was far less graceful.

As they lay on their sides facing one another in each other's embrace, there was silence. The only sound was their both equally gratified sighs with being on a soft surface for once.

"I fear that this may be a dream Elizabeth."

She let out a quick breath at this, and chuckled. "No this is very much real. We have waded through the tides of debris and filth, there is no soul in the near vicinity to help, and the great Rosings is slowly crumbling in on itself. By all accounts according to your Aunt, this may be hell."

"That may be a correct assessment, seeing as I am to marry you and not her daughter." He gave her a light kiss on the forehead with this.

She smiled, and brought her hands up to his head and laced her fingers through his wavy locks. "I am uncertain if this a dream or not myself."

"I may be able to help with that." He said as he kissed her passionately on the lips, then began to unbutton his vest that she was wearing.

Meanwhile off in the distance a group of smugglers in tandem boats were headed toward Rosings.

"Next stop fortune gentlemen!"

The four other men cheered at this, and shook their lanterns in excitement.

"Brilliant plan compromising the dams sir."

"Ah, I can take all the credit gentlemen."

"You think that is where Nate and Aaron are now Graves?" One of the men pointed toward the towers of Rosings.

"They'd best be Allen. We will need the extra help. We're going to pilfer this place dry." He chuckled in a deep graveled tone at his own joke.


	6. Chapter 6

Late that night Elizabeth woke to the shuttered breaths of Darcy. Looking over to her beside she found her candle near the end of the stick. Finding the nearest replacement she lit it, and returned to the bed.

Scanning Darcy over, she found him quite pale, and sweat dripping down from his brow. Placing her hand on his brow she felt no fever. Taking in a deep breath of relief she lifted the covers and looked over his wound. Sighing a curse to herself, she looked in shock to find that the wound was still bleeding, and quite a lot. She quickly jumped from the bed and went to the washroom to collect more dressings.

Nearly tripping over all the rags she held, she quickly went to work removing his old dressings. She moved him about with little care, in fact she hoped that this would rouse him. But sadly it did not, which troubled her a great deal.

Gritting her teeth, she tied the dressings as tight as she could over the wound. But this seemed to just make it worse. She scrunched at her brow as she buried her face in her palms in thought. She had to do something. Thinking back to all the books in her fathers library, she remembered a book on survival that she came across. She only managed to get through half, seeing as her mother decreed it most unladylike to reach such a thing.

Collecting his discarded shirt, and a pair of breeches from the bureau, seeing as her dress was officially forfeit, she slipped on her boots and grabbed a candle.

She carefully crept down the hall. The wall on the opposite side of the hall was slowly buckling from the weight of the damages below. Fortunately they were on the side of the building directly above the original structure. Calculating her every step, as to not incur more injury to their party, she made her way down to the service entrance. The narrow stone stairway was the only thing that seemed to be holding up down this passage. The walls quaked from the eb and flow of the storm. Ducking into the fist landing, she found herself in the servants quarters. With every step down the hall the floor cracked and squealed. She traced her fingertips of her free hand along the wall, memorized every transition from doorway to hall.

A gust of wind swept her off her feet in surprise. Gathering herself, she dropped her head in disappointment when she discovered her candle had been blown out. Pushing the candle off to the side, she pulled herself up and continued in the dark. Gusts of wind kept bombarding her as she ventured further down the hall. A dim gray light emanated from its source. However ominous it was, it was salvation from the dark.

The floor seemed to whine more, whether it were from actual damage to the building, or just her heightened senses of being in the dark. Cautiously she crept around the corner of doorway the light was coming from. Peering in she found that a nearby tree had crashed through the wall, and the weather was pooling in. Taking a step in she got this chill run up her neck, beckoning her to turn and look to her left. Biting her lower lip she looked over, following the line of the limb that ravaged the structure. There betwixt the rubble was a young girl crushed under the weight of the branches, still in her bed. Elizabeth nearly slipped from her abbreviated steps toward the girl. As her hands made contact with the girls arm her heart sank. She was as cold as lead, and her skin was gray. Tears flooded from Elizabeth's eyes as they made contact with the girls dim eyes. Elizabeth shuddered with her breaths, and sniffled as she ran her fingers down from the girls brow to close her eyes.

Taking in a deep breath she closed her eyes. Summoning her courage she walked over to the dresser and began to look for a sewing kit. Most of the drawers were empty, which strained at her heart for the girl. Finally when she nearly lost all hope she discovered a small box in the bottom drawer. Bringing it to the light she opened it. Inside were a few wooden spools of thread and a needle. She hummed in rapture, and snapped the box shut.

Quickly she bound up the narrow stairway and through to their level. She suddenly stopped short and remembered they were lacking food, and that would be of great help in Darcy's state. She left the small box on the ground and went back through the door. Her boot slipped on the top step, and she slammed the door shut behind her. As she regained her footing she discovered the door had locked behind her.

"No!" She pleaded as she tried swiveling the handle each direction. "Why would the lock be from the other side?!"

She slumped down and pouted at her misfortune. Remembering that the stairway across the hall was still mostly intact she nodded, and stood. She had no time to pout, she needed to get back to Fitzwilliam.

She cursed herself for not bringing a candle with her. By now all lights had long burnt out. Once she reached the kitchen she had grown accustomed to the dark. Thankfully she had spent a great deal of time in the kitchen at home to have some idea where things were kept. She filled a flour sack full of provisions, and was just about to cinch it shut when she heard footsteps coming from the other side of the room. She knew Fitzwilliam was not well enough to walk, so it couldn't be him. She quickly darted around the stove, and into the back servants dining hall.

"Where on earth do you think Aaron and Nate went?"

"Knowing them, they'd probably be looking for the lady of this house." Jacob mused as he waded past his companion.

"Then wouldn't he be in the top levels?"

"The lady of this house is obviously out Daws."

"So what are we doing down here?"

"Finding the wine cellar."

"Oh… Right."

Elizabeth clung to the wall listening to their every word as they rooted through the kitchen wares. The cellar door was just near the entrance of the room she was standing in, so she had to think fast. The water swayed from their closing proximity. She held the flour sack up to her mouth to conceal her shivered breaths. Ducking down, she tried to get as flat as she could to hide behind the side of the china shelf. Her heart was booming, and the steam from her breath was clouding her vision. The intruders light crept into the room, and illuminated her white knuckle grip on her parcel.

"You think it is through here?" One man said peering into the room

"No Daws. It's through here."

"How do you know?"

"My sister used to work here. She used to pilfer wine every chance she got before she got caught." Jacob tugged at the door, but found it locked. "Damned door is stuck I think."

"Let me see." Daws walked over to the door and gave it a quick kick.

The door swung open, while handle remained in place.

"Hell of a lock." Jacob mused.

"I know. I installed it."

Water began to pour down the stairway to the cellar. Elizabeth had to cling onto the edge of the shelf to keep her footing.

"After you." Daws said holding his hand out.

Elizabeth waited till the echoes of their steps became faint. She was grateful for the water being drained from the space, but now she had to deal with the loud squishing sound of her boots with every step. She thought about leaving her boots behind, but on seeing the knives, and other kitchenware strewn about the floor she thought better of it. Instinctively she headed back the way she came, but she remembered the door was locked. Just as she closed the door a loud crunching sound came, followed by a surge of water ripping the door down with it. Elizabeth lept away just in the nick of time.

"What the hell was that?" Came a muffled voice from down in the cellar.

Elizabeth had to weigh her options. She could possibly try kicking down the door at the top of the stairs. Looking past the flow of water she found that the wall had finally collapsed, and was blocking the stairs.

"No…" She whispered hollowly.

"I'll go check it out. You keep loading those crates." Jacob said as he ascended the stairs.

Elizabeth panicked, and quickly darted toward the door the men had entered. She was in another narrow passage. She quickly climbed the spiral steps, and was shot out into the dining room. She could hear other men's voices in the near distance, though she was not sure where. She cursed herself for not listening to Mr. Collins more about the layout of Rosings. Peeking out into the main hall she spotted the grand staircase, which hopefully lead to Darcy. Feeling their voices coming closer Elizabeth decided to chance it, and run for the stairs.

"Hey! You there! Where are you going you little lass."

She didn't stop for a glance, and ran at breakneck speed up the stairs. Her boots slipped on the soaked carpet, but she clutched hard to the bannister and persevered. Two other men joined the other and they were quickly gaining on her. She was crying as she took in desperate breaths. She cursed Lady Catherine for having such a maze of a palace. She kept scanning the walls for some indicator that she was going the right direction. Her vision blurred from fear that this stairway would never end. With every bend she toppled over priceless vase, or other nearest decoration to slow her captors.

Fortunately this was working, and the stairway was becoming more recognizable. Eventually she was forced to the bannister side, and had to calculate her steps between the steps that had fallen through. The man closests to her misstepped and fell through to the levels below. This caused the next man to stop short.

"What are you doing Allen! Get her!"

He followed the order and leapt over the gap and gained on her. With one last ditch effort he lunged forward and caught Elizabeth around the waist. They spun around and fell to the opposite side of the bannister. The man clutched hard to her side as he dangled down to the lower levels.

"You got her?"

"Yeah… But I'm slipping."

His grasp was slipping as she squirmed. She frantically pulled at his stone grip and kept looking back and forth from her present captor, and the other heading up the stairs. She was too scared to utter a word, she just kept tugging at his grip to free herself. A awful crack and moan came from the wall, and traveled through the steps. Then an massive crack formed at the top of the ceiling and traveled down the wall like lightning. The man's grip loosened at this distraction, which she used to her advantage. With one quick kick she made contact with his groin and the man released her. She then quickly scooted back, grabbing her bag and climbed up the stairs backward on all fours.

A title wave of debris from the wall and ceiling crashed down in front of her enveloping her last captor. All the while she carefully crept up the stairs in awe. Her body jolted from the surprise of the transition of being on the third level. Still running on the momentum of this traumatic experience she ran over to the locked service door, retrieved the sewing kit, and ran to their room.

Closing the door behind her she felt a wave of comfort from just being in Darcy's presence. Laying out her bounty on the writing table she pulled out a needle and strung it. Holding it up in the dim candle light she took in a hollow breath. She brought over the jug of vodka with her and sat on the edge of the bed. Pulling the sheet up she found his state had improved very little. She pulled the old dressing away, and readied the needle. But a sudden grip on her thigh made her jump and squeal.

"It's just me Elizabeth." Darcy weakly called out in comfort.

Tears were running down her cheeks as she composed herself. "I'm sorry." Still crying, this time from joy, "I'm glad you are finally awake."

"You tried to wake me?"

"Yes. Your injury." She pointed to the wound.

However impossible it may be, he became even more pale with the site of his leg. "Good god."

"I found a sewing kit. I think I can help."

He cocked his head at this, now taking in her frazzled state and attire. "You left the room?"

"Yes, but I'm here now, and safe." She held up the needle, and began to plan out the stitches.

"You ever do something like this before?"

"I've embroidered a few cushions."

He took in a deep breath and gripped at his brow.

"At least I will be of the more accomplished women you have met. How many fine women do you know have performed surgery?"

"Fair argument, can you please hand me the jug, and a rag?"

She complied with his request, and watched him take a big gulp, and shove the rag in his mouth and bite down. Taking this as a sign, she began her stitches. Abbreviated breaths, and light grunts came from Darcy with every pierce. Once she was near completion she thought humor might help, perhaps asking it he would like her initials or a flower sewn in. But in finding his eyes scrunched shut, and his breaths more rapid, she decided to push forward in silence.

With a final tug she tied her last knot, and was complete. "There, all done."

Looking over his way she found him passed out from the exertion. Lunging over to check on his state she found him to have even breaths, and his grip on the sheets had finally released. She sighed loud, and closed her eyes in relief. Looking over to the door she thought for a second about the two remaining men who were still lurking about the lower levels. Both of the routes to their room were blocked, but she still felt unsure. Getting up from the bed she went over to one of the stuffed chairs by the fireplace, and heaved it over to the door barring it shut.

Feeling she could finally relax, she returned to the bed and spooned Darcy's back. Wrapping her arms around him she synchronized with his deep long breaths. Eventually she fell into a much deserved sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning Elizabeth was once again the first to rise. Though this time it was not from Darcy. She had the most wretched twist and stabbing pain coming from her lower stomach. Turning over to her left side, she brought her knees in, and wheezed. She fortunately knew what this was, but abhorred the timing of it. Willing herself to rise she carefully got up, and slipped into the back washroom. Thankfully she caught this early, as to not cause worry with Darcy.

Coming around the main room, she put on her well rehearsed smile from years of practice. Fitzwilliam was awake, and peering over the mounds of covers her way.

"How are you feeling Fitzwilliam?" She came over and lifted the sheet to check on his stitches. "All seems to be much improved." It still looked rather grim, but at least it stopped bleeding.

"We should try to head toward town today."

"You think you can move?"

Slowly he sat up, and meditated on the notion. Then he slid his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Elizabeth, meanwhile juggled with the giddy excitement of seeing his fully naked form, but also looked on with the attention, and intent to rush to his aid if he fell. She scolded this inappropriate half, to think she was having a reaction very much like her silly loon younger sisters.

"I should be fine." Darcy's observation cut in, over her inner crisis.

They gathered up as many provisions they could, bundled up in layers of Darcy's clothes, and packed it all in a boat that was left tied on the east end. As Darcy sorted through the boat, taking out the looted items. Elizabeth looked on with awe at the crumbing Rosinings. The top level was mostly intact, though on flowing the line of the building down it resembled a half felled tree.

The water was much lower now, and the sky was clear. The sun was blindingly bright, but more than a welcome site. Elizabeth basked in the warm light as Darcy worked the oares. He claimed that it was to keep him distracted from the pain, though it was for another distraction entirely. Her current attire, striopped down to a very loose somewhat transparent white shirt of his, with trousers that showed off more of her figure than any dress ever could was intoxicating. Not to mention her expression of pleasure from leaning back into the sun. The sun was welcome to him as well. He had his bad leg positioned just so he could find some comfort. Though with their recent positioning, it was directly on them, warming his leg, and revealing quite clearly both Elizabeth's nipples.

"I can see why ancient societies worshiped the sun." He mused.

"I know isn't it glorious." Elizabeth agreed holding her arms out to take in more sun.

He bit at his lower lip, and put a more effort into rowing.

By midday they could see Mr. Collins humble abode in the far distance. It was positioned on much higher land than Rosings, through the water still came up to at least five feet at some point during the storm. Elizabeth was fast asleep, and though she was hiding it well, Darcy could tell something was off about her. On checking her brow for fever, she suddenly repositioned herself and gripped her stomach in pain. Though men were not to know of such things, he had some inkling of what was amiss. Despite her discomfort, he did relish in that they would not have to rush to the nearest church.

In the early afternoon the frantic waves and calls of Mr. Collins from the rooftop roused Elizabeth from her slumber. Mr. Collins and Charlotte were camped out on the roof of their home accompanied by a few of their chickens, and their stubborn pig.

"Oh Mr. Darcy thank heavens! What fortune we have my dear Charlotte! Mr Darcy is here! Oh I will be right down to aid you. Charlotte… The pig… the pig is nearing the edge."

Charlotte quickly darted over to the animal. The pig seemed to enacting Elizabeths and Fitzwilliams exact sentiment of their immediate disappointment with their first contact with civilization.

The water was thigh height, once they reached the house. Mr. Collins was bantering on and on about all his accounts of the storm, while also adding in bits of Lady Catherine facts on survival. Darcy took the brunt of this, while Charlotte went to Lizzy. On clasping Lizzy's left hand, she held back her squeal of excitement from finding the ring. Lizzy gave her a look to bite her tongue and not say a word, as Darcy, whom was keenly aware of what occured, painstakingly kept the interest of Collins.

Once they waded through the bottom level of the house and up to the second level Charlotte closed the door behind her, and quickly attended to Lizzy. "Am I to believe you are to be the future Mrs. Darcy?!"

"I suppose so." She said, not able to hold back a smile.

Charlotte cracked the biggest smile across her face and cupped her hands over her cheeks. "Oh you will have to tell me everything!"


	8. Chapter 8

Elizabeth rested her chin on her hand as she looked out the parlor window at the Longbourn gardens. Almost three months had passed since the storm. Looking out into the garden she viewed the hurried repairs her family could manage. Most of the grounds were sodden, and many of the pens had yet to be replaced.

Apart from the small leak in the roof in Lydia and Kitty's room, most of the damage was outdoors. Though in the Bennet household, any interruption in Lydia's life was earth shattering. Especially since this was compounded with the denial of her trip to Kent. Elizabeth nodded to herself with this thought. She had shared in confidence with her father Wickham's true nature. And, despite the protest her sister put up with denial to Kent, Elizabeth felt much relief from the arrangement.

It had been nearly a month since she had last seen Fitzwilliam. He had visited several times since she had returned home. Their homecoming was that of mixed emotions. Her family was filled with glee on her safe return, and flabbergasted on their engagement. Her mother's whispered accusation on the side of her being injured, and or not of right mind sullied the moment. Though the followed quick engagement of her sister and Bingley seemed to soften the deal, as well as knowing she could announce to the town two of her five daughters were to be married.

Darcy was a saint during the first month of dinners at the Bennets. Though it was their daily walks and night excursions in the gardens that he confessed that kept him going. Coming back to the moment she hummed to herself remembering the bliss of being in his embrace. But with this a wave of nausea hit her. Leaning back in her chair, she placed her hands over her stomach. She had yet grown accustomed to this new change to her body. She woke every morning feeling ill, and would remain so till supper, where she would have insatiable hunger. To her knowledge the Bennet household had no knowledge of her condition. Though, her mother would cast a rather knowing look her way from time to time, amidst all the hurried planning.

Reaching over to the window sill, she collected her nosegay. Looking the flowers over she could see the delicate care Jane put into them. Jane, early that morning, was escorted to the church with her mother and sister's by Mr. Bingley. Exhaling, as the nausea slowly passed, she took comfort in the silence.

She thought of all the people she would soon be seeing. She was quite excited to see her new soon to be cousin Lady Ann. Though the destruction of Rosings park, and its grand patroness was a tragedy, there was one positive outcome. Lady Ann seemed to come from this, much like a phoenix from the flames. She collected what she could from the rubble, and was quickly setting up residence in Bath. From Colonel Fitzwilliam's accounts, her demeanor has much changed, and he has seen a level of mirth he thought she was incapable of.

"Lizzy. Are you ready?" Her father called from the hall.

"Yes." She said pulling herself up, careful not snagg the lace of her wedding gown.

"Are you nervous my darling?"

"No. Not at all." She said taking his arm.

Elizabeth's mind rolled over the last three months adventures. She bit her lip in mortification of the memories of her mother parading Jane and her about town as they shopped for gowns. Letting all know her daughters were to marry soon. She hummed in response, to her father's nervous filler banter on their carriage ride to the church at the appropriate times. She was more focused on how much more nervous her father was than she was. She held his hand and continued to nod and humm to him, as he continued his musings of all the committees needs for improving the destroyed farms. Before she knew it, her father was helping her out of the carriage, and leading her up to the double doors. Jane in all her angelic beauty was patiently waiting to join them. The second the doors opened, despite the sea of familiar faces, her gaze was immediately fixed on Fitzwilliam. As she grew closer to him she smiled, knowing that he was the one person who made her feel completely, perfectly, and incandescently happy.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for all the kind words of encouragement! It was a pleasure to finally do a P&P fanfic. Feel free to check out some of my other stories. I have eclectic taste... But hey maybe you might find something you like. Below I have a snippet from my own work. I am currently working on a few books. This segment is from my Book "Jack and Dyce." Leave comments on what you think.

xoxo

-SO

"Do you ever miss the old days?"

"What? You mean you don't like doing ridiculous surveillance slash retrieval job on shitbag port hubs?" He responded with a sigh, as he secured the strap to his gun.

"Not especially," she said mostly to herself. "But hey this is better than the Kinsley retrieval."

"Eh! Don't remind me. It's still too soon to talk about that lunatic."

"Well at least that lunatic knows how to pay. For once a client went with the deposit, and final payment on time." She adjusted her skirt with this, and admired the new boots she purchased from this said client.

Her companion smiled out of the corner of his mouth at this, and leaned back against the pod wall. They were still a good ten minutes from reaching the surface in the elevator. "Why bring up the past now? You haven't mentioned home in years."

She brushed down her skirt, and stood to look out the window. "Oh you know. Just missing the carefree days."

"Heh. Carefree… What is that." He chuckled a little to himself with this, as he rubbed his tired brow.

"Well anyway…" She began, seeing the elevator pick up pace. "I'll scope out the west port terminals. You stick to the local bars."

"Right. I have a few leads on some hangouts."

"Well…" She held the hand rail, seeing the ground lock light engage. "I'll keep you posted."

As the elevator doors opened they went their separate ways, and disappeared into the crowd.

Hours later, within the crowds of The Greasy Jazz Tavern, the quintessential seedy bar of the Delfi galaxy sector, a young woman was pushing her way toward the back corner booth. The music was loud, and concealed most of the arguments taking place over the pool table. As she walked the dim lighting hit her glossy hair, and an occasional glint of light shined off her knee high leather boots. Finding an opening in the crowd, she darted over to the table in the far corner. At this table sat a man, with his hat pulled low over his brow. She swooped into the booth seat across from him. Leaning over the table she kissed him on the cheek, and whispered in his ear, "seems like your lead was correct. Our target will be heading to the drop point within the hour." Her companion cracked a smile with this, and pulled her in for a real kiss, then as he pulled away he cupped the sides of her face. "Good. I have singled out the three possible leads here," he said as he lifted his hat, showing off his handsome smile of greeting in return. He slid over a drink, with a napkin stuck under it across the table.

With finesse, she held the napkin down with her right hand, and picked up the drink with her left. As she took a sip, she glanced at his hand drawn map, with three booths circled. "So what now?" She questioned crumpling up the napkin, and pulling in close to him across the table. She nuzzled the side of his face then whispered in his ear. "We can't very well start a shootout in the bar. There are too many people, and I don't want to get blood on my new boots."

He bit at his lower lip with her last remark. Just as he was about to pull her into another kiss, he noticed their target walk through the front door. Settling for a peck on the cheek, he pulled back and offered his hand to her. "Care to dance?"

She arched her right eyebrow at this, but nonetheless agreed. He pulled himself up from the booth. As he stood the dim light shined on his holstered gun on his hip. "You think you can remember the steps?" She said accepting his hand. "We shall see." He gave her a quick wink, and pulled her up.

As they made their way to the center of the dance floor, the band began to play a Jazz blend. Their watchful eyes were well hidden in the midst of their dance. To the eyes of onlookers, they were a young couple enthralled with one another as they danced. But in actuality this was a well rehearsed surveillance they learned from years in their line of work. Looking over her shoulder, he discovered their target's accomplice, who was paying a great deal of attention to them. In observing a nod of their targets head, he knew there cover was blown.

"We may have a problem." He whispered in her ear seconds before he dropped her into a dip. She shot him a quick peevish look. "You armed?" He questioned with little care for who heard. Again the peevish face, followed by a roll of her eyes in response. She then pulled up her knee to his side, and he placed his hand over her thigh holster. "Right well..."

The music hit a high note, and with it she dropped down, and grabbed at his weapon, as he simultaneously pulled her concealed weapon. Two shots rang over the music and hit their targets, causing a wave of pandemonium of fleeing patrons, and eventually the incoming security officers. "Check them for the chip! I'll watch your back."

"I'm on it!" She yelled as she tossed his weapon over to him, and pushed her way toward the two dead men, and began to go through their pockets. Patting down hard on the informants chest, she noticed an odd object. Ripping open his vest, she found a small glass vial with a chip inside. "I got it!"

"Good. Let's get out of here."

They pushed their way through fleeing patrons. From the front entrance shots could be heard.

"Seems they don't care if they hit innocent bystanders." He said pulling her around the corner just barely missing a stray bullet.

"Guess not." She mused looking down at a wounded civilian clutching his chest in the fetal position on the ground.

"Stop where you are, and come out with your hands up! We don't need any more bloodshed." Yelled officer Nim, from the dance floor.

Seeing the wounded civilian begin to twitch, and finally expire, they both looked at each other, then at the side exit. With a nod of agreement, they pushed off the wall and sprinted down the hall. Officers piled down the hall after them, showering them with bullets. Bullets ricocheted off the wall and ceiling, grazing their arms and legs. As they reached the door he pushed her forward and out of the way, seconds before a bullet shot through the center of his back, severing his spine. With the momentum of this shot, he fell through the door and toppled over her.

"Hurry! Get up!"

"I can't, I can't move!"

"What do you mean you can't move?" She pulled him forward and looked at his back. "Shit!"

"What?!"

"Just relax!" She got up and lifted her skirt, revealing another holster, on her opposite leg, with a Mod Needle Pistol. She ran to the door and forced it closed as she shot at the seam, welding it shut in seconds.

"This will not hold long!"

"Why can't I move?"

"Just relax and try to stay awake. We can fix this."She raised her right wrist up, and pushed at the blue stone on her bracelet. A screen projected from it and she quickly typed in an SOS order to their team. Looking up for a split second, she saw her partner start to nod off. "Hey! I told you, stay awake!"

"I'm so tired and cold."

"I know, I know, but you need to stay awake."

His eyes then fell shut hard, and he began to shake slightly.

"Dammit! Stay awake! You can't fall asleep! Jack! JACK!"


End file.
